


two villanelles

by ribbons



Category: Dorothy L Sayers - Lord Peter Wimsey, Lord Peter Wimsey - Sayers
Genre: F/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-30
Updated: 2008-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-04 09:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbons/pseuds/ribbons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two villanelles - one on how Peter's work leads to someone being put to death, and the other on  Bunter and Harriet's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	two villanelles

**Author's Note:**

> Written for marginaliana, the winning bidder in the Live Long and Marry auction for a custom villanelle.

**Wrought**

A man cannot help what he deduces  
although it may trigger great grief and pain:  
some men shape psalms. My hands create nooses.

When How reveals When, and Why produces  
an answer both true and horribly sane,  
a man cannot help what he deduces,

no matter how much his mind refuses  
to countenance what comes next in the train  
of justice's psalms and righteous nooses.

Because of my meddling, men sometimes lose  
their lives; some condemn my work as profane.  
A man cannot help what's there to deduce

but some would say that the man who chooses  
to shine unwelcome torch on ancient stain  
deserves no hosannas for his nooses

that heed not rank or class, nor do they sluice  
Consequence's flood from Impulse's plain--  
a man cannot help what he must deduce:  
Some men speak psalms, but my hands knot a noose.

 

**[Well-Tempered](http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/20/arts/music/20egar.html?partner=permalink&exprod=permalink)**

Devotion and love take many guises --  
some of them simple, free of mystery,  
and others layered in compromises.

After the capture and the Assizes,  
the case does not end; Bunter brings me tea.  
Devoted servant's one of his guises

but though his role requires that he hides his  
magic underneath nondescript hats, he  
knows that I'm glad, how his compromises

don't include lies to me (he realises  
now I've shed my inferiority  
shackles, my love can don many guises --

silly, soothing -- though none sanitises  
what came before in our shared history).  
Life with our lord's clad in compromises --

we scheme to spare his nerves, but surprises  
also brighten both fugue and harmony:  
devotion and love take many guises,   
and triads balanced by compromises.


End file.
